


I know that when I'm with you (I'm at home)

by doubled_helix



Category: RWBY
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Clover gets his life threatened approximately 12 times but he's chill with it, Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode 12 Never Happened, Fix-It, Fluff, Flustered Qrow, Humor, Instead everyone goes to Tai's house in Patch, Light Angst, M/M, Qrow and Clover share a bed multiple times because I deserve this, Shovel Talk, i will single-handedly make that a tag so help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 13:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22432909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubled_helix/pseuds/doubled_helix
Summary: “You like Uncle Qrow,” Ruby declares.“I do.”“He likes you too.”Ruby bounces as she speaks, and for a second, Clover thinks maybe this won’t be so bad. Then her scythe crashes into the wall next to him, slicing through the blocks like butter and producing a gust of wind that almost knocks him off his feet. He wonders if maybe dating Qrow should have come with a manual marked,DANGER: Overprotective nieces attached.(Or: 5 times Clover gets the shovel talk + 1 time he gives it)
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 60
Kudos: 657





	I know that when I'm with you (I'm at home)

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to [this RWBY song](https://youtu.be/POoeN5v2U6Y) basically on loop while I wrote most of this, so things turned out slightly more angsty that I planned. It's still soft though because Qrow and Clover are soft.
> 
> It is 2 am, and I've written almost 10k worth of Fair Game in the last two days. Someone please put me out of my misery.

**0\. Team JNR**

The first attempt doesn’t go too well. 

In fact, Clover wouldn’t even realize it’s an attempt until much later, when he sits down properly to think about it. He’s wandering down the hall to the canteen, focused on the scroll in his hand and trusting that his semblance will keep him from running into anything particularly expensive. He barely gets halfway through one especially dry addendum about weapon allocation when an unusually loud commotion (for Atlas, that is) breaks his fragile concentration, and he glances up from his reading. 

Jaune and Nora are practically tripping over themselves as they steamroll towards him, followed by a calmer, indulgent-looking Ren wearing an expression eerily similar to Vine’s when he was roped in a scheme he felt obligated to follow through.

Nora jabs a finger at his face. “No one will ever find the body,” she declares.

Clover blinks, trying to look past her arm at her rapidly widening grin, bordering on maniac. “What?” he asks. 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this.” Jaune is standing next to her, shoulders slumped, but the moment Clover moves his gaze to him, Jaune straightens himself with an impressive flourish and joins Nora in the pointing. “But she’s right, no one ever will.”

“We’re very good at hiding things,” she affirms. 

Clover sighs. “If this is about another Atlas artifact that you all knocked over, I already told Qrow that your actions aren’t exactly fantastic, but that’s still not something you’d be arrested for.” 

“What?” Jaune isn’t quite good enough yet to hide the instinctual guilty flush that paints his expression before he quickly schools his features. “No, this isn’t about that.”

“Then what is it about?”

Nora’s arm waves back and forth as she practically vibrates with intensity. “Oh, you know what this is about.”

He truly doesn’t.

“And we just wanted to let you know that if he even _looks_ like he’s going to be sad, I will beat you with my hammer.” She draws her weapon for emphasis, a move that while technically is frowned upon by Atlas protocol, still isn’t exactly illegal. “I have a big hammer.” 

“Okay,” Clover says. He’s starting to think that maybe this is all a practical joke. He checks the hallway to make sure Team RWBY isn’t tucked around the corner waiting to ambush him. It’d be terrible form to assault your commanding officer, even as a prank, but he’s come to understand that Beacon Academy produces all sorts. 

“Right,” Jaune says. “Well, I don’t think I even like the guy that much, but he clearly means a lot to our friends, and I have their back.”

“So _tread carefully_.” There’s a fierceness in Nora’s eyes, in both of their eyes, that makes Clover remember that these are the kids who survived more at their age than most Huntsmen encounter in their lifetimes. He still doesn’t quite know what they’re talking about, but he feels an odd flush of pride at the sight of them. The next generation was truly something.

Nora grins again, punching Clover in the arm. He thinks it’s meant to be friendly, but it feels about as nice as one of Elm’s “friendly” back pats, infamous in how excruciating they are. “Anyways,” she chirps brightly, “see you at the evening briefing!” 

Jaune gives him a firm nod and follows after Nora in a movement that could almost be described as graceful before he promptly stumbles over his own feet and is only saved from an unfortunate date with the ground by Nora’s reflexes. 

Ren walks up to Clover and bows slightly. “No matter how high the bird flies, it must always come back to roost,” he says, which answers exactly zero of Clover’s questions. “I support you in your endeavor.” 

Clover stares down the hall at their retreating backs. 

He turns back to his scroll and adds “Clear Communication in the Field” to Team JNR’s lecture roster. 

**1\. Yang**

Yang catches him coming out of the communal showers one morning. 

Well, to be more accurate, she’s leaning against a support column in the locker rooms, dressed in complete combat gear and looking cool as a cucumber. 

Clover sends a silent prayer of thanks to his own semblance that he decided to wrap a towel around his waist today. As team leader, he always rose at what Qrow has affectionately termed the “ungodly, ass-crack of pre-dawn, and if you wake me up, I’ll run you through with my sword and ask Nora to help hide the body,” so he usually had the showers all to himself. 

“Yo,” Yang says, lazily waving her hand in his direction. Her gauntlets are securely wrapped around her wrists. “Morning.” 

He glances at his carefully folded uniform laying a few feet from him on the bench. “I don’t believe you’re allowed in here, Ms. Xiao Long.” 

“Yang,” she said. “If you’re fucking my uncle, I think we should get on a first-name basis.” 

Clover can count on one hand the number of times he’s stumbled over his own feet, and he's proud to say most of those were from before he was old enough to form syllables. Not this time.

“I’m sorry?” he manages, scrambling to fall back on the natural charisma that’s carried him this far. “It’s early, I think I must have misheard you.” 

Yang doesn’t blink. From what Qrow’s told him, she’s got her mother’s eyes, the sort that pierces through more than just your skin. “You like Qrow,” she says. It isn’t a question, but she sounds like she’s expecting an answer anyways. 

“Of course,” Clover says. “He’s a great partner.” 

“A great partner,” she repeats. “Is that all you have to say?”

“Is there something you want to hear?” 

She hums, then pushes off the column with her foot, closing the distance between them until he feels the uncharacteristic urge to step back. He’s never been particularly shy about much of anything, but he would have to be a pretty incompetent leader to not realize that Yang must have planned this confrontation down to the last detail, clothes and all. She wanted to be on equal footing with him for this conversation. He could respect that. 

“Let me tell you a story.” Her voice is soft. 

“Can I change first?” 

“When I was younger, my first mother, Qrow’s sister, left us.” Yang traced her finger along the edge of her gauntlet. “Her name is Raven.”

“I know.” 

Yang’s gaze turns sharp. “He told you, huh. He must really trust you.” 

Clover feels warm. 

“Well, then you must know a few years later, me and Ruby’s mother went off on a mission. She never came back.” Yang turns away from him, slowly walking along the edge of the bench. “My dad couldn’t get over it. He could barely look at us. So in a way, we lost both our parents that day.” She reaches down towards his folded uniform and picks up the pin laying neatly on the top of the pile. “But Uncle Qrow was there for us,” she says, huffing out a laugh. She turns the pin over in her hands. “I don’t know how he did it. You might have noticed, but he tends to blame himself for a lot of things.”

_“I wouldn’t thank me. My semblance, it brings-”_

“I’ve noticed.”

“Raven left,” she said. “My mother is gone. But Qrow’s always been there for us, for better or worse. He’s never run away, not ever. He means everything to me.” 

She retraces her steps until they’re inches apart again. He blinks, and it isn’t a trick of the light - her irises are red, like Qrow’s. Like her mother’s. 

“So I’m going to ask you again, and you’re going to give me an answer that isn’t bullshit.” She smiles at him, but her gaze is unwavering. “How do you feel about my uncle?”

Clover grew up on the streets of Mantle. He graduated Atlas top of his class. He’s been in fights, been interrogated in controlled conditions by some of the coldest operatives in Ironwood’s military. He always knows what to say, been trained to respond to any sort of situation. He doesn’t think anything could have prepared him for this. 

“I like him just fine,” Clover says. He sees Yang’s eyes narrow and shakes his head, taking a breath. 

When James first told him about Qrow Branwen, he remembered not thinking too much about it. He cataloged the most important points - loner, spy, one of Ozpin’s inner circle - and shoved the information to the back of his mind until the man himself waltzed into Mantle on a stolen airship, a herd of kids at his heels. 

Qrow is sarcastic and funny, cynical yet gentle. He loves his nieces more than anything. Clover is so fond of him, it hurts. He wants Yang to like him too, to trust him with her uncle. 

“Qrow,” he says. “Qrow is lovely. He makes me happy, and-” He breathes again, slowly. “And I hope I make him happy too.”

For a brief, terrifying moment, Yang’s expression doesn’t change. Then she slaps him hard on his back and grins. “Good,” she says. “I think you’re good for him. And well, if you aren’t-” Her grin widens. “I’ll punch you so hard, your ancestors’ll feel it. Cool?” 

Clover chuckles. “Cool.” 

Her smile turns gentle, warm. She grabs his hand and pushes his pin into his palm. “Take care of him,” she says softly, turning towards the exit. “And for the record? Clover?” 

“Hm?” 

“I think you make him happy, too.” 

**2\. Ironwood and Oz**

“Thank you,” James says, turning back to his papers. “You’re dismissed.” 

Clover nods and turns toward the door. It’s a rare free day for the Ace-Ops, and he already planned to spend the entire time working on his team attack with Qrow. And then maybe they’d have dinner at that nice restaurant Weiss recommended if he could wrestle Qrow into anything resembling a suit. Maybe if he played his cards right, he could rope Ruby into helping him- 

“Clover.”

He pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “Sir?” 

James is staring determinedly at the documents in front of him. “You and Qrow,” he says, words coming out uncharacteristically stilted. “Are you two in-” He coughs hard, and the hand holding his pen tightens. 

“A romantic relationship?” Clover offers, trying to be helpful. 

James nodded stiffly. 

Clover turns to face him again, automatically standing at ease. “Is there something you want to ask me?” 

From what he’s heard from Qrow, he and James have a complicated relationship. They were both members of Oz’s inner circle, and apparently, they used to get along back in the day, before Team STRQ fell apart. Before James’s accident. 

James sighs, laying down his pen and crossing his fingers under his chin. “I’ve known Qrow a long time,” he says. “Since he was still a student at Beacon, and I had just been promoted. I didn’t know what Oz saw in him at the time. Hell, I didn’t even know what Oz saw in me.” 

Clover stays quiet. He thinks he and the General get along well enough, but James has never shared anything so personal with him. He’s not sure how to feel about it. 

“Just tell me one thing, Clover,” James says. “Are you sure you’re making a logical decision?”

“Sir?” 

James runs his gloved hand over his forehead. “Please don’t misunderstand. Qrow’s a good man, as are you. And I’d be lying if I said you two don’t work well together. But to be huntsmen in a relationship, there’s always a risk. Are you prepared for that?” 

Clover’s been told more than once that he can be a little cocky, too used to his semblance giving him an edge in everything from his reflexes to fate itself. Before Qrow, he never gave much thought to what it must be like to live without luck, but more than that, there’s a quiet wildness to Qrow that thrills and terrifies him. Something that makes him wonder if maybe Atlas was short-sighted in only teaching the importance of following orders. 

He doesn’t tell James this. 

“I’m well aware of the risks,” he says. “But I’m willing to give it a try. Qrow too.” 

James sighs, turning his chair to gaze at Atlas behind him. “He told me the same thing once,” he says. “Once upon a time.” 

Clover ducks his head. Qrow hasn’t told him that. 

“You know the sort of man I am.” Atlas shines bright under the morning sun, looking now more than ever like the glittering jewel of hope it was meant to be. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

James doesn’t move. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Clover.” 

Clover glances at the back of James’s chair, wondering if he should say something, if there’s something James wants to hear. He doesn’t, though, slipping through the doors to the office instead and closing them quietly behind him. He takes a breath. 

“Clover?” 

Oscar’s standing at the end of the hall, tugging nervously at his coat. Clover straightens, moving away from the doors and plastering a confident mask onto his face. “How can I help you?”

Oscar opens his mouth, then closes it again. His hands shake almost imperceptibly. “It’s Oz,” he says. “He has something he wants me to tell you.”

Clover feels a smile quirk his lips. “Are you going to lecture me too?”

“No?” Oscar blinks. “Why?”

“Eh, it’s been going around.” 

Oscar laughs, and his shoulders relax. “I don’t have all of his memories,” he says. “I know I’m supposed to be him, but I don’t feel like an immortal wizard.”

“Is this about Qrow?” 

“It’s odd.” Oscar’s gaze is miles away. “I remember when I met him, but it feels like I’ve known him for years. He gave his life to Oz, so many people did, and Oz still kept secrets from all of them. He did care, though. He cared a lot.” 

Clover hasn’t lived thousands of years, but he can imagine what it must be like. At some point, other people must start seeming ephemeral at best - unimportant. How long can empathy last? When does it stop mattering? 

“He’s glad Qrow finally seems at peace. And he says he’s sorry.”

“I don’t think he should be telling me this.”

Oscar huffs in amusement. “I know. But he doesn’t think Qrow’s ready to hear it.”

“Is this the part where you tell me he’s going to unleash powers I’ve never heard of on me if I hurt his friend?” 

“Oh, not at all.” Oscar smiles, rubbing his cheek with a rueful expression. “If you hurt him, I think Qrow can make you regret it enough himself.” 

The funny thing is, even though Clover has never met this famous Ozpin that James spoke so highly of, looking at Oscar right now - that strange, distant light in his eyes - Clover thinks that maybe, just maybe, those words came from the man himself. 

**3\. Ruby**

Clover’s expecting it when Ruby corners him in the middle of the training room one afternoon. She has her scythe held in front of her like a shield and a blazing determination in her face that makes her look so much like her sister. 

“You like Uncle Qrow,” she declares immediately.

Clover wonders if maybe speaking with preamble is something the younger generation has decided as a whole to discard from their language. 

“I do.” He feels like an old pro at this by now. 

“He likes you too.” 

Ruby bounces as she speaks, and for a second, he thinks maybe this won’t be so bad. Then her scythe crashes into the wall next to him, slicing through the blocks like butter and producing a gust of wind that almost knocks him off his feet. He wonders if maybe dating Qrow should have come with a manual marked, _DANGER: Overprotective nieces attached._

“My uncle’s awesome,” she says, lowly. “And he’s been through a lot, especially recently. I thought he wasn’t going to-” Her voice breaks, but she recovers quickly, pressing forward with the strength of a true team leader. “He’s gotten so much better since coming to Atlas, and I’m just so proud of him, so _proud_ of him. Yang says she’s talked to you.”

“Yes.” Clover coughs. “It was enlightening.” 

“Uncle Qrow trained me,” Ruby says. “I’m so happy you make him so happy, but if you know him half as well as you claim, then you know he’s not someone you can mess with.” 

“Of course not.”

“Then you should know that neither am I.” She yanks her scythe out of the ground with one fluid motion and props its long handle against her shoulders. 

Clover suppresses a smile. For someone who tried for so long to avoid forming connections, Qrow has so many people who love him. Maybe he’s luckier than he thinks. 

“I think you’re really great,” Ruby says, and her serious expression shifts into a sunny grin as she beams at him. “Uncle Clover.” 

She’s off in a burst of rose petals before he processes what she’s said. For the first time in quite a while, he feels himself flush. _Uncle Clover_. It sounds nice - warm. It sounds like he has somewhere else he belongs, somewhere other than a military academy with slate-gray steel walls. Somewhere where he can stay by Qrow’s side. 

**4\. Raven**

As an Ace-Ops, Clover has some perks for his sleeping quarters. He gets a larger bed with a genuine mattress, a thick comforter and as many pillows as he wants. Currently, that means three: one each for Qrow and himself, plus one for the two of them to bicker over before bed. 

Clover has insomnia sometimes. He thinks it’s likely leftover from when he was a kid running around the streets of Mantle, getting sporadic bursts of sleep whenever he felt safe enough to close his eyes. There’s a large window in his room that opens, and he gently eases himself away from where he was wrapped around Qrow, pulling on a shirt and slipping past the glass pane. 

He loves the view of Atlas at night from atop the Academy. It’s always a welcome sight, despite how many times he’s seen it. What he doesn’t expect when he pulls himself up to his usual spot is the woman standing there, a bone-white Grimm mask hiding her features.

His fingers twitch around his waist, where Kingfisher would usually be sitting. Every nerve in his body alights instantly, readying him for a fight. 

“Who are you?” he asks. 

The woman’s hands come up to grip the edges of her mask, pulling it free with a toss of her head. “Take a guess,” she says mildly. 

Red eyes, instantly familiar, are framed by the same jet-black hair and pale features. 

“Raven.” 

“So he does remember me.” She chuckles. “Color me surprised.”

She looks so much like Qrow that Clover feels his breath catch. Even beyond the physicalities, they carry themselves the same, with bone-deep tiredness - an exhaustion so profound, it’s become a part of them. Her voice is different though, her words clipped and cruel. She doesn’t even glance at Clover as she speaks, staring out at the sea of Atlas buildings below instead. 

“Are you truly pursuing my brother?” 

“Yes,” he answers, “but based on what I’ve heard about you, I didn’t think you’d care.”

At this, she does turn and stares at him, eyes hard. “This will not end well for either of you.”

There’s a special place inside of Clover where he carries his anger, and for Raven, the woman who hurt Yang and Qrow so deeply and yet still claims to be their family, he lets some of it bubble the surface. 

“If Qrow hasn’t scared me off with that kind of talk yet,” he says, “then you sure as hell won’t.” 

Raven doesn’t seem impressed. “I’m always right,” she says softly. “Even when I wish to the gods that I’m not.” Her hands clench against her mask, brushing the blood-red vessels that decorate it. “If you really care about my brother like you claim, then you shouldn’t get too close. Because when you fall - and you will fall - it’ll only hurt him all the more.”

Qrow’s told him a few stories about his childhood in the tribe, and none of them have made Clover feel any particularly positive feelings. He wonders if it affected Raven too, if that might be why she thought the way she did. But then he thinks about Yang again, about Ruby and Qrow. 

“Careful.” His voice is sharp even to his own ears. “Almost sounds like you care about him. It’s a little too late to be pulling out the protective big sister routine now, don’t you think?”

Raven smiles. It isn’t a nice one. “I don’t have to threaten you,” she says. “Because when you finally do hurt Qrow, there won’t be enough left of you for me to bother.” 

Clover sees her hand touch the handle of her sword, and he’s jumping back in an instant, ready to defend himself even without a weapon. She ignores him, slashing a bloody red line into the air instead. 

“Qrow still loves you, you know.” Clover unloads his words in a rush, unfamiliar fury making his vision blur. “I can’t fathom why, but he does.” 

Raven pauses, but she still doesn’t look at him. “Too much heart was always my brainless brother’s downfall,” she says. “And if you ignore me, it’ll be yours as well.” 

She steps off the roof and through the portal. He’s alone again, feeling frustrated and breathless. 

She’s wrong, he thinks as he slides back down into his room. Qrow’s still asleep, having rolled over to Clover’s side and cocooned himself in his entire comforter. For a few moments, Clover lets himself stand next to Qrow, watching the way the moonlight reflects off his hair. 

She’s wrong. 

**5\. Tai**

By the time they make it to Patch on their stolen airship, even Ruby’s struggling to stand. There’s a desperation that hangs over the entire group, an unspoken acknowledgment of how much they’ve lost. How much they could still lose.

Ruby has the Staff of Creation in a death grip, refusing to let it go even as Qrow reaches over to help her off the ship. 

Atlas had fallen. 

Robyn decided to stay behind, struggling against odds to keep what was left of Mantle together. Winter was picking up after the mess James had made, Penny at her side. And them? They fled. “Like cowards,” Nora had snapped. She was furious, they all were, but they’ve flown so long that the fury had drained out of them, leaving nothing but a weariness that sunk through to the bone. 

There was nowhere else to go, so when Yang suggested Patch, no one argued. They landed messily in a forest clearing, and a blond man who Clover recognized as Taiyang Xiao Long from Qrow’s photos found them soon after. Tai swept both his girls up in tight embraces, smiled at them all and somehow fixed up in his house enough cots that they all collapsed in immediately. 

Clover opens his eyes at the crack of dawn the next morning, still too used to his schedule no matter how exhausted he feels. Qrow’s tucked under his arm, and he can’t help but feel himself smile. Atlas was gone, but they made it. Both of them. 

“If I start hearing kissing, I’m going to throw up.” 

Clover glanced up to see Yang and Blake wrapped around one another on a spare mattress next to them. Yang was awake, one arm propped under her head and the other absently stroking her sleeping girlfriend’s hair. 

“No kissing,” he promises, carefully extricating himself from Qrow’s limbs and sitting up. “I think I’ll go make breakfast. Do you want anything?” 

Her eyes flicker down to Blake, and she shakes her head. “I’m good.” 

He smiles and pads out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. He’s surprised to see Tai in the kitchen already, digging through his fridge. 

“Can I help?” he asks, and Tai starts, banging his head against the top shelf. Clover laughs. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tai grumbles, rubbing at his injury. He stands, an army’s worth of eggs and scallions in his arms. “I didn’t expect anyone to be up yet. Clover, right?” 

Clover nods, reaching over to take a few cartons and setting them down on the counter. “Qrow’s told me a lot about you.” 

Tai chuckles. “Then I guess it’s nothing good.”

“He says you were a great partner and an amazing father.” 

Tai unloads his ingredients next to Clover’s eggs and bends down to start rifling through pots and pans. “Well, that’s just a plain lie.” 

“What do you mean?”

Tai sets down two frying pans on the stove and kicks the cabinet close with his leg. “I was a terrible partner,” he says. “And I’m a subpar father at best.”

Maybe chronically low self-esteem had been a requirement to join Team STRQ. “Yang and Ruby are some of the most exceptional women I’ve ever met,” Clover says. “Are you saying you had no hand in that?” 

Tai flips open a carton of eggs and laughs. “My girls are amazing,” he agrees. “But that’s more on them than me. I wasn’t exactly strong or a good role model, and as much as I love Qrow, neither was he.”

Clover takes the knife and cutting board Tai hands him. “Grief isn’t weak,” he says. 

Tai’s hand slips around an egg, and he barely catches it in time. “Qrow told you about that too, huh.” 

“A bit.” 

Tapping the egg against the edge of the bowl, Tai cracks it open and turns to toss the shells away. “Qrow and I were partners back in Beacon,” he says. “We worked well together, had fun together. Even after I started dating Raven, we stayed close. But then-” He breaks another egg into the bowl. “Well, I’m sure you know.” 

Clover carefully cuts down on a line of scallions. “I don’t mind hearing it from you.” 

Tai looks at him. Clover sees Ruby in his eyes, a gentleness that belies something ferocious and unbreakable. 

“When Raven left,” Tai says, slowly but gaining more certainty with every word, “I was a wreck. Summer and Qrow tried their best, but I could barely tolerate Summer, and I couldn’t even look at Qrow. He just looks so much like her.” Tai’s voice trails off. 

“He does,” Clover says. 

Tai’s gaze sharpens, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“I still don’t see how that makes you a bad father.”

Tai sighs, picking up another egg. “I recovered from Raven. Had Ruby with Summer. Yang loved her, loved the both of them. I thought everything could still be okay. And then I lost Summer.” He chuckles. “Just my luck, huh?” 

Clover frowns, bringing the knife down a little harder than necessary. “Sometimes bad things just happen.”

“I know that now.” Tai tosses the carton. “But in the moment, I felt like- Like I was moving through gelatin. Everything was so difficult. My girls would grab me, try to get me up to play or eat, to do anything other than lie there.”

“That still isn’t weakness,” Clover says quietly.

“Qrow was there for Yang and Ruby more than I was those months after Summer died. I don’t know how he did it. And I still don’t know how to thank him for it. You’d think ten years of co-parenting would be more than enough time to think of something.”

Clover sets down the knife. “That sounded pretty good to me.” 

Tai glances up, surprise splashed across his face. He laughs. “I can see why Qrow likes you,” he says. “You know, I saw you two together. Are you-?”

“Yes.” 

Tai presses down on what looks like a burgeoning grin. “Good. Good, I’m glad.” He produces a spoon from nowhere and starts beating the eggs by hand. “Just so you know, even though I’m retired, I was still a huntsman at one point.”

“I know.” 

“So I can still deliver some pretty brutal vengeance if you break his heart.” Tai’s tone is light, but he’s staring at Clover as he talks. “Can I trust you with him more than I trust myself?” 

“I still think you’re being too hard on yourself,” Clover says. “But meeting Qrow - that was the best luck of my life. No matter what happens, that won’t change. 

Tai smiles, and Clover distantly notes that no matter how much Yang resembles her mother in other ways, she has Tai’s smile: warm and gentle, like sunlight. 

“Good,” Tai says. 

**+1. Qrow**

Qrow wanders into the kitchen around the time they start scooping the omelets onto plates. He’s rubbing at his eyes, looking more relaxed than Clover’s ever seen him. He stretches unabashedly, like he’s finally comfortable for the first time in ages, sleep pants hanging baggy around his hips and hair sticking up every which way. 

“What are you two whispering about,” he grumbles, propping himself up with one of the dining room chairs. 

Clover sets down the plates in his hands, so he can trap Qrow under one of his arms, nuzzling his cheek against his fluffy bird’s nest. The conversation with Tai rings fresh in his mind.

“You’re so lovely,” Clover says, feeling a very unfamiliar sappiness tinge his words. “I love you.” 

Qrow tenses in his arms, and Clover doesn’t need to look to imagine Tai behind him, likely looking as smug as can be. 

“I’m not that great,” Qrow mutters, sounding embarrassed. 

“Hey.” Clover grips him by the biceps, pulling him back. “I won’t let anyone talk about my boyfriend like that. Not even you.” 

Qrow flushes down to the base of his neck. “I don’t-”

“Qrow.”

Qrow closes his mouth. For a moment, Clover thinks he isn’t going to say anything. And then Qrow huffs, ducking his chin so it rests on Clover’s shoulder. 

“Love you, too,” he says. 

There’s a terrible fondness crawling up Clover’s chest. It brushes up against his ribs and settles at the base of his throat where Qrow’s hair tickles gently against his skin. They’re still a long way from being out of the woods - the threat of Salem might just be closer than ever - but here, ensconced within these four walls, Qrow wrapped safely in his arms, Clover feels more at peace than he remembers being in a long time. 

He brushes his lips past Qrow’s temple, thinking of warmth and softness and home. 

“Lucky me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I can't believe Clover proposed at the end of Episode 12, and now he and Qrow are going to get married.


End file.
